F 



^t'sforicaL 

TAGEANT 
or ILLINOIS 




An Historical TAGEANT 
OF ILLINOIS 



BOOKOFWQRDS 

PAGEANT 

OF 

ILLINOI 

ThomasWbodStevens 





Rroduced at 

NortliwesteraLMversity: ^ 



October 
Norfliwestera I5ir 




'V 



COPYRIGHT 1909 

BY 

THOMAS WOOD STEVENS 






RALPH FLETCHER SE\'MOUR COMPANY 

THE ALDERBRl^JK PRESS 

FINE ARTS BUILDING MICHIGAN BOULEVARD CHICAGO 



ta EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE. 

1^ Mrs. H. J. Patten, Chairman. 

^ Mrs. Chas. G. Little, Vice-Chairman. 

r Mrs. Laurence DeGolyer. 

Mrs. J. K. Armsby. 

Miss Mary Wilson. 

Miss Elizabeth Whitely. 

Pres. A. W. Harris. 

Mr. T. K. Webster. 

Mr. Philip Shumway. 

Mr. Wm. Dyche. 

Mr. R. R. Gilkey. 

Prof. James. 

Prof. Lutkin. 

Mr. John Lee Mahin. 

Mr. Alfred Granger. 

Mr. Graham C. Patterson. 

EXECUTIVE STAFF. 

Thomas Wood Stevens, Director. 

Dudley Crafts Watson, Assistant Director. 

Donald Robertson, in Charge of Scenes Played by the 

Donald Robertson Players. 
Olaf Anderson and Frank E. Barry, Musical Directors. 
Richard F. Babcock, in Charge of Costumes. 




Q/^f^JoXarque:6^ 






LIST OF PATRONS AND PATRONESSES 
FOR THE 
HISTORICAL PAGEANT OF ILLINOIS. 

Governor and Mrs. Deneen. 

Governor Hadley of Missouri. 

Ex-Governor John L. Beveridge of Illinois. 

Gen. and Mrs. Frederick D. Grant. 

Mr. and Mrs. Robt. T. Lincoln. 

Mr. and Mrs. H. C. Chatfield Taylor. 

Mrs. Cyrus H. McCormick, Sr. 

Mr. and Mrs. Harold McCormick. 

Mrs. J. V. Farwell, Sr. 

Mr. and Mrs. J. V. Farwell, Jr. 

Mr. and Mrs. Potter Palmer, Jr. 

Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Meeker. 

Mr. and Mrs. John A. Spoor. 

Mr. and Mrs. R. T. Crane. 

Mr. and Mrs. Benj. Carpenter. 

Mr. and Mrs. Chauncey Keep. 

Mr. and Mrs. Byron L. Smith. 

Mrs. Emmons Blaine. 

Mr. and Mrs. John J. Mitchell. 

Mr. and Mrs. Russell Tyson. 

Mr. and Mrs. James A. Patton. 

Mr. and Mrs. David R. Forgan. 

Mr. and Mrs. Wm. Holabird. 

Mr. and Mrs. A. C. Bartlett. 



Mr. and Mrs. Chas. L. Hutchinson. 

Mr. and Mrs. Carter H. Harrison. 

Mr. and Mrs. Clarence I. Peck. 

Mr. and Mrs. Charles G. Dawes. 

Mr. and Mrs. M. M. Kirkman. 

Mr. and Mrs. Cyrus Hall McCormick 

Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Chalmers. 

Mr. and Mrs. L. F. Swift. 

Mr. and Mrs. N. W. Harris. 

Baron and Baroness de St. Laurent. 

Mr. and Mrs. Charles Henrotin. 

Mr. and Mrs. William Liston Brown. 

Mr. and Mrs. Frank R. McMullen. 

Mr. and Mrs. Andrew McLeish. 

Mr. and Mrs. Edward Morris. 

President and Mrs. James of the University of Illinois. 

President and Mrs. Harry Pratt Judson of the 

University of Chicago. 
President and Mrs. J. V. NoUenof Lake Forest College. 
Dean and Mrs. Henry Wade Rogers. 
Director and Mrs. William M. R. French of the Art 

Institute. 
Dr. Charles J. Little. 
Mr. Fernando Jones. 
Mr. Simeon Farwell. 
Mrs. G. F. Swift. 
Mrs. Hugh R. Wilson. 
Mrs. McGregor Adams. 
Miss Nina Lunt. 
Mrs. John B. Kirk. 
Mr. Milton Wilson. 
Mr. and Mrs. Fredrian A. Howe. 
Mr. and Mrs. James R. Crandon. 
Mr. and Mrs. R. N. Isham. 




NOTE. — ^This pageant attempts to present, in a 
short space of time, a few of the most stirring events in 
the history of lUinois. As the number of scenes is 
necessarily limited, only such as may be considered 
turning points in the story of the State are chosen; and 
further than this, the choice is governed by the avail- 
ability of the material for dramatic representation. It 
is comparatively easy to represent an event; it is diffi- 
cult even to suggest the development of a common- 
wealth. Hence the swift culmination of a frontier 
struggle is preferred to the more important but slow 
and undramatic progress of civilization. As the early 
history is clearly the more readily adapted to the pur- 
poses of a pageant, no further justification for the 
emphasis on this period need be sought. 

In most cases the event itself is so presented as to 
make clear its culmination rather than the diverse 
causes, many of them remote, which brought it about. 
To do this events which actually occurred during sev- 
eral successive days are frequently shown as taking 
place in a single scene; and frequently conversations 
are transplanted from place to place ; such liberties have 



their excuse in the compression which they bring about. 
It is probable that no single event of the pageant, with 
the necessary evident causes, could be literally shown 
just as it occurred, in a single evening. 

Numerous authorities have been consulted and the 
effort has been to make the work as accurate as pos- 
sible. In some cases the more picturesque tradition 
has been preferred to the literal record — as for instance 
when the story of the taking of Kaskaskia follows the 
tale as given in Denny's "Memoir," rather than the 
fact as it occurred; the tradition is full of the color of 
the times, and its place as a western hero-tale is estab- 
lished. Similarly, in the treatment of Tonty, a conver- 
sation is adapted from Mary Hartwell Catherwood's 
"Story of Tonty" — a purely fictitious work — because it 
represents one of the best romantic fabrics that has yet 
been made of the material. 

With this explanation the pageant is submitted as 
historical. 



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DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 

White Cloud. 

Donald Robertson. 

The Great Sachem of the Illinois. 

Mr. Mendenhall. 

Council Chief of the Pottawatomies. 

Mr. Fesler. 
An Indian Messenger. 

Mr. C. F. Poole. 
Pere Marquette. 

Louis Joliet. 

Tonty. 

An Indian Girl. 

Nicolas Perrot. 

The Mohegan Hunter. 

La Salle. 



Rev. George Craig Stewart. 

Mr. Lawrence D. Ely. 

Mr. Gibson. 

Miss Mary Doyle. 

Mr. Dalton. 

Mr. Boynton. 

Mr. Alfred H. Granger. 



Hennepin, a Recollet Friar. 

Mr. Pingrey. 
Barbe Cavalier. 

Miss Morland. 
Nicanope, Chief of the Illinois. 

Mr. Schilling. 
Pontiac. 

Mr. Laurence Hamilton. 
An Illinois Chief. 

Mr. F. J. Cowley. 
Neyon, the French Commandant. 

Mr. Jewell. 
Rocheblave. 

Prof. BaiUot. 
George Rogers Clark. 

Prof. Lardner. 
Pere Gibault. 

Prof. Salvio. 
Two Provosts of the Ball. 

Mr. George Miller. 

Mr. Warner Coburn. 
The Fiddler. 

Mr. Edwin Stringham. 
An Indian. 

Dr. Hurlbut. 
Mr. Raycliff. 

Mr. H. H. Hoyt, Jr. 
A Young French Lady. 

Miss Ella McClary. 
Captain Heald. 

Rev. E. Reginald Williams. 



Mr. Percy Eckhart. 
Mr. Truman Brophy. 
Mr. R. R. Gilkey. 
Mr. George Calkins. 
Mr. Chester Brown. 
Mr. Cyril Courtney. 



Captain Wells. 
Ensign Ronan. 
Mr. Kinzie. 
Black Partridge. 
Chief of Miamis. 
Captain Stillman. 

Blackhawk. 

Mr. Laurence Hamilton. 
Blackhawk's Messenger. 

Mr. Cowley. 
A Young Lady. 

A Young Trooper. 

A Soldier. 

A Corporal. 

Lincoln. 

Mr. Fentriss. 

Blackbird, Chief of Pottawatomies. 

Mr. Kieth. 

Pioneers, Indians (men and women), American Soldiers, 
French Soldiers, Dancers, Habitants, Settlers, 
Rangers, etc. 



Miss Hazel Mackaye. 
Mr. Ralph Holmes. 
Mr. John Rice. 
Mr. Richard Babcock. 




AN HISTORICAL PAGEANT OF ILLINOIS 
Scene One 

A low chant is heard in the darkness, grad- 
ually drawing nearer, and closing with a 
sound of drums. The light grows clearer, 
and discloses the figure of White Cloud, 
the Prophet. 

WHITE CLOUD 

REAT MANITOU, WHO 
LIVEST IN THE SUN, 
WHOSE VOICE WE HEAR 
AMID THE BATTLING 
CLOUDS, SPIRIT WHO 
MAD'ST THE WORLD 
FROM THE RED CLAY, 
And in the world the children of thy might, 
I, Wau-ba-kee-shik, White Cloud, cry to thee: 
For in my peoples' councils I am wise. 




And in the paleface councils, am a child; 
For I have fasted in the caves of tears, 
Lain ear-to-earth to hear thy whisper, worn 
Black warpaint of the prophet and the seer, 
And lo, the medicine and magic of thy name 
Are mine! Great Manitou, thy children fall, 
And the long, bitter war trail nears its end. 
Let me look back. The fields were rich. 
The smokes rose up from fire on fire along the hills. 
And all our people, and the Illinois 
Prospered, and there was hunting for us all. 
So^say the old men. Now the day is gone 
And the chill stars who dog thy westward track 
Watch us with wintry eyes like wolves at night. 
Manitou of the Oak, I call on thee. 
For thou dost take the scalplocks of dead years. 
To wear them in thy crimson autumn hood. 
And living long, dost feed upon the hearts 
Of the brave springs who sing beneath thy shade. 
Thou dost remember. Tree gods, hear my spell 
And breathe my medicine. Bring back the glow 
Of our forgotten camp-fires; bring our chiefs 
To their lost councils. Feed mine ancient hate 
With visions of our wars, back to the dawn 
When there had come no pale-face to our lands 
And our unhindered rivers were not shamed 
With any burden of our enemies. 
Teach me, red Manitou of Oak, the tale. 
And let me hear, as when the old men make 
Among the tepees their unending vaunt. 
Thy winter-song. Oak, thou art tall. Thy head 
Nuzzles against the clouds; and thou art old. 
Much thou hast seen. Thou followest no trail. 



So thou rememberest. Oak, I bid thee speak, 
I bid thy shadows clear. I bid the morn, 
To burn anew — the red morn of our tribe. 

As he ceases to speak, the light fades from 
White Cloudy and the fires of the council 
encampment begin to glow. The Indians 
arouse themselves, and make preparations 
for the Corn Dance; a long line of women 
bearing bundles of cut maize comes in; the 
smoke ascends from the altar of the Corn 
Manitou, and the chiefs commence the 
dance and the chant; then a second circle 
of the children is formed around the men; 
■finally the women form their circle, outside 
of the children, and the dance continues, 
growing more animated; it ceases suddenly 
as the chant stops. 

THE CORN CHANT 

Kitchemanedo, 

Master of Life 

Made man of the pipe-clay 

Alone; 

Made woman of pipe-clay 

To be his sister; 

Made the corn for her lover. 

Her lord, 

Last wooer, first lover. 

Her comfort and lord. 

So hath the Master of Life, 

Kitchemanedo 

Sent us the corn. 



As the chant stops, the Great Sachem of the 
Illinois enters, followed by his old men and 
"warriors, and bearing the Calumet. 

GREAT SACHEM 
Am I welcome ? 

COUNCIL CHIEF OF THE 
POTTAWATOMIES 
We dance, all our people, for joy that you have come. 

GREAT SACHEM 
Your tribe is gathered for thanksgiving — for the Corn 
Dance. You enjoy a good harvest ^ 

COUNCIL CHIEF 
Our harvest has been rich. We have sent messengers 
to your great lodge with our tribute — the payment of 
the seed-corn. 

GREAT SACHEM 
The calumet goes round, and your people dance, and 
the harvest is full. But in the southward country our 
brothers are at war. The Iroquois and the Miamis 
band against us. The peaceposts are blackened. 
We must help our brothers. 

COUNCIL CHIEF 
Our young men shall take bows and axes, and cut 
down your enemies as the winter cuts down the dried 
corn. 

GREAT SACHEM 
So you have sworn upon the sacred fire and the red 
earth; and you have exchanged with us the calumets. 
But now, against the Miamis, we have a new war, for 

13 



the pale-faces from beyond the mountains have given 
to our foes their weapons of fire and thunder, and the 
Miamis drive our warriors before them as the red deer 
run before the hunting of the wolves. 

COUNCIL CHIEF 
We have heard of these pale men. They are manitous. 

GREAT SACHEM 
This is light talk, this talk of manitous. But their 
medicine is strange and powerful. They smile, and 
speak of love, and the friendship they bear us, but their 
thunders slay us from the thickets. There are pale- 
faces of two kinds, good and evil; the good are to be 
taken into our lodges, for they are wise ; the evil ones are 
death; so much we know. Your young men must be 
resolute. 

COUNCIL CHIEF 
Why should not we also seek the palefaces and learn 
their witchcraft; it is folly of us to die and be no wiser. 

GREAT SACHEM 
Soon enough we shall learn it. 

A messenger enters and stands before the 
Great Sachem. 
What word do you bring us, young man with feet like 
the wind ? 

MESSENGER, pointing south- 
ward. 
The Black-Gown. 

A number of Indian children come running 
in after the messenger^ looking behind 



them. All eyes turn in that direction. 
After a slight pause, Marquette enters, 
folloived by Joliet and Jive Frenchmen, 
bearing packs and canoes. 

MARQUETTE 
I am welcome ? 

GREAT SACHEM 
I thank thee, Black-Gown, and thee. Frenchman, for 
the labor of your coming. Never shone the sun so 
tenderly as to-day; never rustled the ripe corn so pleas- 
antly as now, since you are with us. Our river, that 
was so angry at the rocks which chafed it, flows calm 
and silent, since the canoes of the white men have passed. 
Behold, Black-Gown, I give thee my little son, that 
thou mayest know my heart. Thou art beloved of the 
Great Spirit. Ask him to cherish me and my people. 

MARQUETTE, to Joliet. 
Here, Louis, is my mission. 

JOLIET 
In all our travels, we have seen no chief so gracious, 
no people so well favored for the work of the Church. 
It may be, father, thou art right. 

GREAT SACHEM 
Black-Gown, one medicine I ask of thee. The pale- 
faces have given their thunder weapons to our enemies, 
the Miamis. Give us also weapons, that we may 
defend our lodges and our women. 

MARQUETTE 
If I gave you weapons you would kill the Miamis who 
are my children also. 



15 



GREAT SACHEM 
We would defend our hunting grounds. 

MARQUETTE 

I bring you another word, my son — a word of peace. 

The Great Sachem turns aside to consult 
with his old men, and Marquette makes a 
sign to his follower Sy who go off, all save 
yoliet, who comes forward with the Jesuit. 

MARQUETTE 
Louis, my friend, I have come to the end of my journey. 
Thou hast been to me the trustiest shield, the cheeriest 
comrade. I have loved thee well, and while yet I live 
thy name shall not fail from my prayers. But here 
thou art to leave me. 

JOLIET 
While yet thou Hvest. What does that mean, father ? 

MARQUETTE 
We have passed over many streams, and many portages. 
We have seen the Great River, and the Pictured Rocks, 
and the lake of the Illinois. No other Frenchman has 
seen them. Behold, how great a field for the Church, 
how wide a domain for the Cross. Louis, I have 
before me the task of my destiny, and I must not shrink. 

JOLIET 
Nor do I shrink, father. I will stay with thee. 

MARQUETTE 

Nay, my son. I have seen thine eyes wet when our 
carriers sang their songs of France. I have seen thee 



wistful, even to tears, when we have spoken of Quebec, 
the home thou didst leave to come with me. No, 
Louis. Thou shalt go on. I will remain. It is only 
for a little while. 

JOLIET 
It is true, I have longed for home. 

MARQUETTE 
I knew it, Louis. 

THE GREAT SACHEM, com- 
ing forward again. 

Black-Gown, dost thou refuse the weapons to me and 

my people .? 

MARQUETTE, going back to 
the group of carriers^ who have 
brought in a great cross of white 
birch wood. 
My children, I have for you no weapons. I desire that 
you shall live at peace with the Miamis, and the Iro- 
quois, and all the forest people. 

GREAT SACHEM 

Then I and my tribes are to be slain, and thou wilt do 
nought to help us ? 

MARQUETTE 

I will bring you my faith, as my brothers have taken it 

to the Miamis. 

A threatening murmur arises among the 
Indians, and some of the young men move 
toward Marquette. 

17 



GREAT SACHEM 
And wilFthy faith shield us from our foes ? 

MARQUETTE 
Yea, truly it will, for it is the faith of peace, and love. 
Behold, here I set up this cross for a sign. 

GREAT SACHEM 
The rains will rot it down, and the snows will cover it. 

MARQUETTE 
Not so, for it shall be in your, hearts. 

He leans heavily on Joliet^s shoulder, and 
it IS seen that he is very weak in body. 

GREAT SACHEM 
Thy medicine, Black-Gown, means nothing to us. We 
wish to know thee and thy Manitou; we were ready to 
be thy children, and thou dost offer us a sign of birch 
wood. 

MARQUETTE 

I bring you more than a sign, for I bring you truth. I 

will teach you of the life that dies not, and of the true 

God, and of the Holy Church; I will teach you of the 

creation, and the redemption, and of the Blessed Virgin; 

I will make plain to you the law of Christ, which is the 

law of love. Kneel down, all you who seek the truth. 

Here I set the Cross, and here, while I may, I will abide. 

The Indians fall on their knees, as the 

light gradually fades. At last only Pere 

Marquette and the Great Sachem are left 

standing; then the Indian kneels, and the 

light fads luholly from the scene. 





Scene Two 
WHITE CLOUD 

EACEFUL THE BLACK-GOWN 
CAME. WE WELCOMED HIM. 
HE TAUGHT HIS' FAITH; WE 
LISTENED AND WE LOVED. 
FOR HE WAS PATIENT, BRAVE, 
AND KIND. HE LIVES 
In drowsy annals of our winter nights. 
But those who followed in the Black-Gown's trail 
Brought harsher magic and a hopeless war. 
Seeking the paths that we had never trod 
They searched the blue horizons for some grim 
And desolate issue to forbidden seas; 
They spoke to us of mysteries, shoulder-wise 
As they with tireless footsteps hastened on. 
So the four hunters in our mystic tale 
Pursue each year the bear who never dies. 
And stain the leaves of autumn with his blood 
Till all the oaks and maples flame with woe, 
And the still snows come down on them like sleep; 
But in the spring the bear awakes, his wounds 
Healed, and the hunters take their bows and strike 
The chase that follows through the fruitless years. 

19 



La Salle, and Tonty of the Iron Hand, 
Great Captains in this idle paleface quest, 
Came hither long ago, and claimed the ground 
For some old king beyond the sunrise. These 
Were strong-heart men, these finders of the way 
Who hunted the great rivers to their ends, — 
Stern foes, whom fear could never shake. Behold, 
Wan children of the sheltered lodges, these 
Who faced the mystery with dauntless eyes 
And trod our trails out with intrepid feet. 
The Captains of the white man's outer march. 

The lights come up gradually, showing 
the village of the Illinois asleep, and 
Tonty's party encamped among them. 
Tontyy alone, watches by Marquette's cross. 

TONTY 

How strange a service is this, that I must watch by a 
Christian cross that was set here in the wilderness by 
our enemies. The wood may yield to us; the rivers 
may give up their secrets; but the hatred of those behind 
us will not abate. My Captain, this is a great endeavor, 
and we have fought hard in it, but the battle is not won. 
Little men bark at your heels for a few beaver pelts; 
but you look forward and see an empire. So be it. 
Your vision is mine. La Salle. 

Enter, an Indian Girl, Omawha's 
daughter. 

THE GIRL 
Iron Hand. 



BBEBBi 



TONTY 
Princess. 

THE GIRL 
Man with the Iron Hand, I have this to tell you. Turn 
back, for you and your chief are betrayed. 

TONTY 

My chief never turns back. 

THE GIRL 

You must all die if you go on. There has been council- 
talk in the dark. 

TONTY 
Tell me of this council-talk. 

THE GIRL 
The Miami, Monso, came last night. He spoke long 
to our old men. He brought presents from the Iro- 
quois. He said the Sieur de la Salle would break our 
tribe in his hand, if our people let him pass. He said 
the Black-Gowns sent him, and the Iroquois. Turn 
back, Man-with-the-Hand-of-Iron, or our chiefs will slay 
you all. I have spoken. 

TONTY 

This is girl's talk. 

THE GIRL 
This is true-talk, Iron-Hand. 

She starts away from him. 

TONTY 

Stop, Princess, and tell me why ? 



She runs out, and is gone. Tonty turns 
to arouse hts followers. It is now full day, 
and the village is waking up. 

Rouse yourself, Jolycoeur. The Sieur de la Salle will 
soon be here from the portage. 

NICOLAS PERROT (called 
Jolycoeur.) 
Who was that talking, Tonty .? 

TONTY 
A young squaw. 

NICOLAS PERROT 
What did she want ? 

TONTY 
She came to me about you. 

NICOLAS PERROT 
About me ? Well, what did the young woman want 
of me ? 

TONTY 
She wanted to buy you, knowing you were good for 
nothing to me, to keep the dogs away from her chil- 
dren. 

NICOLAS PERROT 
Tonty, Fm not one to endure insult forever. 

TONTY 
Listen to me, Nicolas Perrot. I have heard your com- 
plaints, and your treasons; heard them long enough. 



I say nothing to Monsieur de la Salle, but I warn you. 

That is all. 

Enter an Indian Messenger, the Mohegan. 

What word, Mohegan .? 

THE MOHEGAN 
Monsieur de la Salle is come, Iron Hand. 

TONTY 
Fall in line, men. 

The Frenchmen of Tonty's party are 

draivn up in a line. The Indians of the 

village gather to see La Salle's party, the 

chiefs grouped to gether at the back, of the 

stage. 

Enter La Salle, followed by Hennepin, 

Barbe Cavelier, and the men of the party. 

THE MEN OF TONTY'S 
PARTY, cheering ironically. 

Welcome to the Sieur de la Salle! 

La Salle salutes them coldly, and goes over 
to Tonty, laying his hands on his shoulder. 
LA SALLE 

All has been well with you, Tonty ^. 

TONTY 

All has been well, my Captain. 

LA SALLE 
I thank God for that. 

TONTY 

I have information for you. Let me give it before you 
meet the council. 



La Salle and Tonty walk aside, talking 
earnestly, while Hennepin and Barhe 
come up. 

HENNEPIN 
But for my roving disposition, mademoiselle, I should 
never have come out here to your uncle's estate. It's 
a great park he has, but I caution you — you must 
not expect too much of his chateau. It does not keep 
up the state which the grounds might seem to promise. 

BARBE 
Father, I do not like anyone to rail at my uncle. 

HENNEPIN 
I must rail at something, my child. Your uncle can 
bear it as well as another. 

BARBE 
Where are we to be lodged, father ^. 

HENNEPIN, beckoning to 
Tonty, while La Salle speaks 
with the chiefs. 
Signor Tonty, here's a lady pestering me with ques- 
tions. Now as I have brought her out here, at her 
uncle's wish, to marry her off to you, I hold that you 
should be the one to reply. 

Tonty comes forward. 

BARBE 
Keep your distance. Monsieur Tonty. I will not be 
given away without consideration by anyone. 



TONTY 
It is true that I have the word of your uncle, Monsieur 
de la Salle. 

BARBE 
I am told that this is true. 

TONTY 

Mademoiselle, I have not the experience to know how 
one should approach one's betrothed. I was never 
married before. 

BARBE 
It is my case also, monsieur. 

TONTY 
How do you like this land of the Illinois, Mademoiselle ^ 

BARBE 
I am enchanted with it. 

TONTY 
You delight me when you say that. In a few days we 
shall come to our fort on the Rock of Saint Louis, 
mademoiselle. 

BARBE 
That will be very agreeable, monsieur. 

TONTY 

We often have hunting parties from the Rock. The 
country is full of game. 

BARBE 
It is pleasant to amuse oneself, monsieur. 



TONTY 
Mademoiselle, I hope this marriage is agreeable to 
you? 

BARBE 
Monsieur de Tonty, I have simply been flung at your 
head. 

TONTY 
I would I had more experience in matters like this, that 
I might not prove so distasteful to you, mademoiselle. 
But at the Fort Saint Louis there has been little thought 
of gallantry, and I am rusty with my bows and my 
manner of suing. 

BARBE 
This Fort Saint Louis of yours — is it a chateau on a 
mountain, monsieur ^ 

TONTY 
A stockade on a cliff, mademoiselle. 

HENNEPIN, coming down be- 
tween them. 

The council begins. Your affairs move too slowly, my 

children. 

He leads Barbe aside. The circle of the 
Indians is formedy and Tonty takes his 
place beside La Salle. Nicanope, the Illi- 
nois chief, rises to speak. 

NICANOPE 

My brothers, it is not alone that we may feast together 
that we meet here in our village. We would save you 



from the dangers you do not understand. You have 
said that you wish to go down our river to the Great 
River, and even to the end of that Great River. You 
have given us presents, and we love you. So we tell 
you, this is not possible. For the River of the Missis- 
sippi belongs to the evil manitous; in its waters are terri- 
ble serpents, and on its shores are tribes who let none 
pass, but take all such as travel that way, and devour 
them. And if by your great valor you escape the ser- 
pents and the shore-clans, you will at last be swept into 
a great water-fall, which plunges downward into a gulf 
too deep to be measured. Do not go, my brothers, 
but turn back. The Great Manitou, the Master of 
Life, forbids it. 

LA SALLE 
My brother, did you not, only yesterday, promise my 
friend that you would help me to go down the Great 
River. Have the serpents and the water-fall, and all 
this danger, come up in the night ? 

NICANOPE 
Yesterday, my brother, we did not know. 

LA SALLE 
I thank you for the friendly warning which your affec- 
tion bids you utter. But we were not asleep last night 
when Monso came to tell you that we were spies of the 
Iroquois. The presents he gave you, that you might 
believe his lies, are at this moment buried under your 
council lodge. If he told you the truth, why did he 
skulk away in the dark ? Even now, while I am speak- 
ing, could we not put your chiefs to death, if we so 

27 



willed ? If you are our friends, our brothers, as you 
say, go after this Monso, and bring him back, that he 
may look me in the face. For I tell you, openly, that 
I will not turn back, now nor hereafter. 

The chiefs gather around ISficanope, the 
circle breaking up and leaving the white 
men in a group at one side^ the chiefs at 
the othery and La Salle and Tonty in the 
center. Perrot comes forward from the 
group of Frenchmen^ and addresses La 
Salle. 

PERROT 

These are brave words. Monsieur de la Salle, but they 
are foolhardy as well. We believe what the Illinois 
have told us of this river, and we can not find it in our 
hearts to go forward. 

LA SALLE 

Nicolas Perrot, do you know that this is mutiny and 
treason .'' 

PERROT 

I know we can not go forward to our certain death 
merely to please you, monsieur. This is the wilder- 
ness of the Illinois, not the parade-ground of Fort Fron- 
tenac. 

LA SALLE 
Are there no faithful men } 

Tonty comes up on one side of him, Hen- 
nepin on the other. 



TONTY 
You still have friends, my captain. 

LA SALLE 
Here, then is my answer. I speak as Saint Lusson 
spoke at Sault Sainte Marie, and loyal men will hear 
me to the end. 

He draws his sword and steps forward , 
repeating solemnly the Proces Verbal de la 
Prise de Possession. 

In the Name of the Most High, Mighty, and Redoubted 
Monarch, Louis the Fourteenth, Most Christian King 
of France and Navarre, I take possession of this land of 
the Illinois, and of all countries, rivers, lakes and 
streams adjacent thereunto; both those which have 
been discovered, and those which shall be discovered 
hereafter, from the seas of the North and the West to 
the South Sea; declaring to the nations thereof that 
they are vassals of His Majesty, and bound to obey his 
laws; and I promise them on his part protection against 
the invasions of his enemies. I bind all his subjects in 
this dominion to his laws, and to the authority of those 
who govern in his name, on pain of incurring treason 
against His Most Christian Majesty. And I warn all 
others against seizure and infringement, on pain of in- 
curring his resentment and the efforts of his arms. 
Vive le Roil 

Hennepin and Tonty kneel during the 
speech, and rise at the end of it, shouting, 

TONTY AND HENNEPIN 
Vive le Roi ! 

29 



Vive le Roi! 
Forward ! 



The men break away from Perroty and 
swing over to La Salle ^ all save five. 

THE LOYAL MEN 



LA SALLE 

Perrot and his mutineers persist for a 
moment, gazing at La Salle; then their 
heads drop, and they return to their packs. 
The Indians stand together and watch the 
movement without any show of feeling. 
The Frenchmen take up their packs and 
canoes, and start down the trail. La Salle 
falls in behind them with Hennepin, 
Tonty with Barbe. As they pass from 
sight, two figures stand clear of the Indian 
group: Nicanope, who watches them in 
wonder, holding his calumet, and the girl, 
Omawha's daughter, who follows alone to 
the center of the stage, looking after Tonty; 
she stands for a moment, irresolute, her 
back to the audience, and her hands over 
her face, weeping. Then she turns slowly 
and goes back to the lodge. 
The lights fade from the stage, and White 
Cloud again appears. 





Scene Three 
WHITE CLOUD 

COLD THIS CAPTAIN WAS — 
LA SALLE, WHO BURNED 
IN SECRET WITH INDOMI- 
TABLE FLAME. 
OUR PEOPLE KNEW, FOR WE 
COULD UNDERSTAND 
A heart which never showed how deep its wounds. 
How grave its causes — we, the red folk, knew. 
But there were little men of his own clan 
Whose hate could never sleep; they tracked him down. 
And after him the winters and the springs 
Danced round the camp fire of the shifting sun; 
And braves, just come of age to hunt and woo 
When Tonty of the Iron Hand was here, 
Grew old, and sage, and died at last of years 
Before another chieftain lived whom I, 
The Prophet, raise to honour with my spells: 
And when he came, he was an Ottawa, 
A man of mine own race, who loved his land 
And dared to battle with the robbers twain, 
England and France, who bargained, field by field 
Our ancient hunting grounds away. This chief 



Was Pontiac, the last of our high sachems. 
And even now I hear his drums resound, 
S ee his great war-belt swinging in the lodge, 
And answer, in my heart, his dauntless call. 

The scene is still the village of the Illinois; 
eighty-five years have elapsed since the 
last episode, and the Illinois now gather, 
unwillingly enough, to hear the demands 
of Pontiac, who, after his defeats in the 
East, comes to rally the western tribes to 
resist the cession of the land to the English. 
The lights appear on the council, as Pon- 
tiac enters. 

PONTIAC 
My children, as I have spoken before, so now I speak. 
This war is for the lives of our people, and the land 
which the Giver of Light made for our heritage. Listen 
to my speech, which is true-talk. The English say that 
the French have given them the land. But this could 
never be, since we have never sold our land. My 
children, our father, the French king, sleeps, and the 
Enghsh have seized his forts and his houses. But when 
the French king wakes — what then .? 

AN ILLINOIS CHIEF 
We have heard all this, Pontiac. We own the land. 
We hate the English. But the English are very strong. 
What do you require of us. 

PONTIAC 
First, I give you these presents, that you may know my 
friendship. 

32 



Ponttac's people bring forward some bales, 
and among other things, a large cask of 
brandy. He then produces a great war- 
belt, which he holds up before him as he 
speaks. 

I require of you now some swift and true messengers, 
that I may send this belt to call together my people. 
Behold, in it are woven the totems of all my tribes and 
all my villages. Your messengers shall carry this, with 
my war call. 

Four Indians step forward to act as mes- 
sengers. 

PONTIAC, to the four. 
Take now my great war-belt, and go down your river 
and the Mississippi; wherever there is smoke of a village, 
stop and carry my word. Say that I, Pontiac, will 
drive back the English from the North and East, and 
let them hold back those who came from the South; 
let the rivers be closed; let no canoe of the English pass, 
but sink it with lead and with arrows. I have spoken. 
You, who carry my war-belt, be faithful. 

AN ILLINOIS CHIEF 
We have given you messengers, brother, but our warriors 
cannot help you in the East and the North. We are 
a peaceful folk, and our harvests have been poor, and 
our strength wanes. We cannot war against the 
English. 

PONTIAC 

Then I will bring upon you my Ottawas, and the 
Miamis, and the Iroquois — all those who have hated 



you. I will burn up your people and your tepees, as 
the fire eats the dried grass of the prairies. 

AN OLD CHIEF 
Our father, the commander of the French, will soon be 
here. Let us speak in peace until he comes. 

PONTIAC 

My father, the French king, will help me when I am 
ready. I will not wait. I ask of you now, my warriors, 
that the war song begin ; for if you fail me, you shall 
surely die. 

One of Pontiac*s men seats himself on the 
ground and begins heating a drum. His 
people throw off their blankets and pre- 
pare for the ivar-dance. The cask of 
brandy is broached^ and the drink is 
handed round. A murmur of the rising 
war-song is heard. Enter Neyony French 
commandanty with troops. Pontiac prof- 
fers him a belt of ivampum. 

PONTIAC 
Father, with this belt I open your ears that you may 
hear. I bring you this war belt, that you may know 
I have not forgotten to hate the enemies of the French 
and the black cloud that is over us all. I ask you, for 
the last time, that you will aid us against the English. 
Or, if you will not do this, give us powder and lead and 
we will raise the hatchet alone, for we know that the 
French king is old, and has slept, but now he is awake 
again and we may sweep the English from our lands. 



NEYON 

Pontiac, our hands are tied. Our father, the French 
king, has forbidden us to injure the EngHsh. With 
this paper he has forbidden us, and we dare not dis- 
obey. If you and your tribes are wise, you will cease 
this warfare and bury your hatchet forever, since our 
father, the king of the French, has given this land to 
the EngHsh. 

PONTIAC 
Father, the French king could not give our lands. 
He did not own our lands. 

NEYON 

With this paper our hands are tied. Untie this knot 
and we will aid you. 

PONTIAC 
You tell me the French king has yielded to the English — 
that his scalp hangs in their lodge ^ Yet you hold in 
your hands my war-belt. 

NEYON 
I give you back your war-belt. Pontiac, our friendship 
is over. 

PONTIAC 

I, too, here drop from my hands the chain of our friend- 
ship. Take my defiance. Frenchmen. Against you, 
as against the English, my people will fight forever. 
This belt you have scorned, but I have sent from me 
another, woven with the totems of seven and forty 
tribes. By that belt I defy you — I and all my warriors. 

35 



During the last speeches the Illinois have 
been crowding around the brandy cask, 
behind Pontiac. At the last wordsy he 
draws himself up by the cask; a brave 
from the group around the barrel lurches 
forward, clings to Pontiac for a moment, 
then falls at his feet. There is a noise 
of drunken laughter. Neyon gives an 
order to his men, and they file out, leaving 
Pontiac staring at the figure at his feet. 
As he turns toward the Indians they 
break into laughter and loud yells and 
rush of in the opposite direction from that 
which Neyon has taken. Pontiac goes 
over to the cask and tips it over. It is 
empty. The lights disappear from the 
stage, and in the gloom the Indians remove 
their encampment. 

INTERMISSION. 



36 





Scene Four 
WHITE CLOUD 

ET NOW THE MOONS CHANGE 
SWIFTLY, AND THE SPRINGS 
SCATTER THE SNOWS WITH 
THEIR RETURNING FEET. 
AND LET THE YEARS DEPART. 
I MOURN THEM NOT. 
Great Pontiac died, and for his mighty life 
A vengeance fell upon the Illinois; 
Keener than prairie winds, it licked them up, 
And all their treasons passed, like scalps that hang 
Unprized amid the tepees' dust and smoke; 
For Pontiac, though his war-belt fell apart, 
And in his death was nothing glorious. 
Loved well his land and folk, and hated well 
The spoilers of his nation. Peace to him. 
And fortunate hunting in the woods of Death. 
The Frenchmen passed; they were our friends and 

brothers; 
The English followed, and were foes to us. 
And last the Long Knives, folk we never knew. 
And never loved, and never understood. 
They seized our soil, and with unresting plows 

37 



Made our broad prairies burn with yellow grain; 
So they grow rich, while we slink in and out, 
Poor ghosts of an unwelcome past. Behold 
How first they came, with Clark in the still night; 
And how, in the fulfillment of our people's hate 
Long afterward, we found the war-path clear. 
And the white beaches crimsoned at our tread. 

Kaskaskia, a grove in the village. Laugh- 
ing groups of habitants, in festal array, 
come in with flowers to decorate the scene of 
the dance. They bring two small cano- 
pied booths, which are set up, one at each 
side of the stage, for refreshments and for 
the fiddler. At the back of the stage they 
erect a floral arch or doorway, through 
which, as soon as it is set up, come the two 
Provosts of the ball, who are to be the mas- 
ters of ceremony. They instantly set to 
work ordering the guests, marshalling the 
girls along the left side of the stage, and the 
men along the right, enforcing their author- 
ity in the most courteous manner with ver- 
bal instructions. The scene is to be carried 
by all concerned in a key of decorous 
gayety. 

THE PROVOSTS, seating the 
guests in order. 
Prayjyou, monsieur, — pray you, mademoiselle. 

Enter Commandant Rocheblave, with a 
guest, a young Englishman, dressed in the 
height of fashion. 

38 



THE PROVOSTS 
Welcome to you, monsieur le Commandant. We are 
honored supremely. 

ROCHEBLAVE 
Gentlemen, allow me to present my friend, Mr. Ray- 
cliff. 

A PROVOST 
We are enchanted. Monsieur Raycliff is an English- 
man ? 

MR. RAYCLIFF 
A traveller. 

ROCHEBLAVE 
We are all in the English service, Mr. Raycliff. At 
your service. 

THE PROVOSTS 
By your permission, monsieur le Commandant, the 
dance may begin .? 

Rochehlave nods, and the Provosts confer 
aside. A coureur de hots enters, and goes 
immediately to the Commandant. 

THE COUREUR 
Captain, I beg to report — 

ROCHEBLAVE 
Wait till the dance is begun. I have a guest — 

THE COUREUR 
It is' in haste. The Long Knives are up the river in 
force. They are coming down upon us, I am told. 

39 



MR. RAYCLIFF 
Long Knives ? 

ROCHEBLAVE 
The Americans, he means. I have heard this tale be- 
fore. It is not possible. 

THE COUREUR 
I have reported, monsieur le Commandant. They say 
that Clark commands them — Clark of Virginia. 

Mr. Raycliff is visibly alarmed. Roche- 

hlave comforts him. 

ROCHEBLAVE 
Be off, you'll alarm the ladies. 

Exit the coureur de hois. 
These tales come every day. We no longer pay atten- 
tion, Mr. Raycliff. 

Enter the Fiddler. General murmur of 
approval. Rochehlave and his guests take 
seats and the Provosts select the dancers, 
inviting them forward and lining them up 
at the hack, in couples. Seven couples have 
thus been called forward. The Provost 
at the right selects a young Frenchman; 
the Provost on the left selecting a young 
lady. The man comes forivard, hut the 
lady stands still, very proud and rebellious. 

THE PROVOST 
Pray you, mademoiselle. 

THE YOUNG LADY 

No, monsieur le Provost, I will not dance. 



THE PROVOST 
Mademoiselle, the gavotte waits; monsieur attends. 

A gesture at the waiting swain. 

THE YOUNG LADY 
It is not that I have been two years chosen queen of the 
king's balls. It is that I do not choose. 

THE PROVOST 
This is most unusual, mademoiselle. Most unusual. 

THE YOUNG LADY 
I do not choose to dance with the gentleman you have 
called. Besides, Monsieur le Commandant has a guest. 
Do the honored provosts know that he does not dance ^ 

THE PROVOST, speechless 
with rage: 
Mademoiselle! 

THE YOUNG LADY 
I have not heard the Provosts inquire of the guest. I 
do not know he does not wish to dance. Why not ask 
him ? I will wait. 

ROCHEBLAVE, coming for- 
ward: 

Monsieur le Provost. I have a guest. May I beg for 
him the honor of a dance .? 

Turns to the rejected partner. 
Monsieur, you place me perpetually in your debt. I 
thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kind- 
ness to my guest, Mr. Raycliff. Again I thank you. 

41 



The Provost leads Mr. Ray cliff forward, 
and presents him. The young lady makes 
him a deep boiv, makes an ironical curtsey 
to the Provost, and the dance begins. The 
crowd has gathered, till the sides of the 
stage are crowded with guests, settlers, sol- 
diers, and Indians. At the hack, however, 
there is still an open space, through which 
the shadowy figures of Clark' s men can be 
seen marching past, their rifles in their 
hands. 

Enter, unnoticed, George Rogers Clark, in 
the uniform of a Virginia Colonel, except 
that his boots are missing, and he wears 
moccasins. When the figure of the dance 
permits, he saunters over and leans against 
the tree, right center. 

An Indian, who has been sitting on the 
ground leaning against the tree, spies him 
and darts out, standing straight before him 
for an instant. Then the Indian whirls 
suddenly, and runs over to Rochehlave. 

THE INDIAN 

The Long Knives! 

THE COUREUR DE BOIS 

Rushing in center. 
The Americans! We are surrounded. 

ROCHEBLAVE 

Coming down to confront Clark. 
Silence. Who are you, sir .? 

42 



CLARK 
Colonel Clark, at your service. 

At the words the crowd is seized with 
terror, and everything is in confusion. 
Women scream, men shout, and in the 
distance the war-whoop of the Indians 
IS heard. 

ROCHEBLAVE 
By whose authority do you come here ? 

CLARK 
By the authority of Patrick Henry, Governor of Vir- 
ginia. You are surrounded, Captain. Your sword. 

ROCHEBLAVE 
Insolence! Men, this gentleman is our prisoner. 

As the French soldiers move forward, the 
Americans rush in and surround Clark, 
threatening the others with swords and 
pistols. 

CLARK 
Gentlemen, I pray you, continue your entertainment. 
I speak for the Governor of Virginia. Monsieur 
Rocheblave, I must again demand your sword. 

ROCHEBLAVE 
I will not surrender my garrison to your night-prowlers. 
I will not — 

CLARK 
Put this man under guard. Disarm him. Search the 
town, and bring me all the Britishers you find. I'll 



know whether we are to be openly defied or not. Let 
all keep within their houses, on pain of death, till I 
order otherwise. 

The guests have been departing hastily 
during the scene, the men conducting the 
ladies out. Clark watches them go, his 
face lowering. At the last, the fiddler 
comes over to him, hobs humbly, and offers 
his greeting. 

THE FIDDLER 
Monsieur the new Commandant, I trust you will not 
forget me, when you desire that there shall be a dance, 
for the people of the post. 

CLARK 
I shall call on you. Monsieur. 

Enter Pere Gibault. 

PERE GIBAULT, frightened 
but intent upon his duty. 
Is this the American commander ? 

CLARK, severely. 
I am Colonel Clark, at your service. 

PERE GIBAULT 
I am a man of peace, monsieur le Commandant, and 
know nothing of your war. I speak for my people, 
who are loyal subjects. I am called Pere Gibault. 

CLARK 
I am glad to^' meet you, sir. 



PERE GIBAULT 
I have come to speak for my people. Everywhere 
they beg for their Hves,and the village is mad with fear. 
Monsieur le Commandant, I must know what their 
fate is to be. Are they to be slaves of the Americans .'' 

CLARK 
You do not understand, Mr. Gibault. We have come 
to free these people, not to enslave them. They are 
to be citizens, not subjects. Mr. Gibault, ours is a 
war for liberty, for justice. I must have order among 
your people. But they are free, now, as they never 
were before. 

PERE GIBAULT 

And they are not to be driven from their homes by your 
"Long Knives :" 

CLARK 
Certainly not. 

PERE GIBAULT 
And they are not even to lose their property .? 

CLARK 

Not a penny. 

PERE GIBAULT 
Tell me, Monsieur Colonel Clark, are they to be allowed 
to come to worship as they were ^ 

CLARK 
We have nothing to do with churches, save to defend 
them from insult. By the laws of Virginia, your rehgion 
has as great privileges as any other. 

45 



PERE GIBAULT 
Monsieur Clark, my son, I am overwhelmed at your 
kindness. I am already, in my heart, a citizen of 
Virginia. I must tell my people. 

He starts to go, but returns. 
Though I know nothing of the temporal business, I 
can give them some advice, in the spiritual way, that 
shall be conducive to your cause. God bless you, 
Monsieur Clark. 

Exit Pere Gthault. 

The fiddler comes hacky having lingered. 

THE FIDDLER 
I see thati.it will be necessary for me to play to-night. 
Our people will want music. I hear them already 
singing. 

CLARK 

You shall fiddle to-night under the flag of Virginia, sir. 

Strike your strings. 

As he speaks, the townspeople flock back, 
cheering and exultant. They cross the 
stage and go on, taking Clark with them. 



46 




Scene Five 

Parade-Ground before Fort Dearborn. 
Captain Heald and Lieutenant Ronan 
appear, with Mr. Kinzie; the Captain 
replying to the trader s protest against 
leaving the fort. 

CAPTAIN HEALD 
I understand your objections, sir, and I know that it 

47 



is only their love for you and your family that holds 
the Indians to their pledge. 

KINZIE 

I fear it will not hold them. 

CAPTAIN HEALD 
Mr. Kinzie, your advice was doubtless good, but my 
orders were positive. I must evacuate the fort, and 
I have been ordered to give out the supplies to the 
Indians. The goods have been distributed. We have 
no stores, and must move. The Pottawatomies have 
promised us an escort, and I believe they will furnish it. 

KINZIE 
I advised you against the delivery of arms, ammunition 
and liquor. 

CAPTAIN HEALD 
I have taken your advice, and had the arms destroyed 
and the liquor poured into the river. 

KINZIE 
Secretly ? Your treaty with them is broken, as you 
know, by the action. 

CAPTAIN HEALD 
Secretly. 

KINZIE 
Captain Heald, I have to tell you that the Indians know 
of the destruction of the arms, and that even now they 
are drunk with the whiskey they have lapped up from 
the river. 



ENSIGN RONAN 

That puts a cap to our folly, sir. We shall be shot 
down like cattle. 



CAPTAIN HEALD 



Are you afraid, sir ? 



ENSIGN RONAN 
No, sir. I can march where you dare not. But I do 
not hope to escape. 

KINZIE 
If you must move, it is better that it be done at once. 
The news you had has reached the tribes as well. 
They know that war has been declared, and that the 
British have taken Mackinac. 

Enter Black Partridge. 

BLACK PARTRIDGE 

Father, I come to deliver to you the medal I wear. It 

was given me by the Americans, and I have long worn 

it in token of our friendship; but our young men are 

resolved to imbrue themselves in the blood of the white 

people. I can not restrain them. I will not wear a 

token of peace while I am compelled to act as an enemy. 

He gives the medal to Captain Healdy 

who tosses it contemptously to Ensign 

Ronan. Ktnzie^ understanding the 

Indian s motive^ shakes hands with him, 

silently. Black Partridge goes out. 

ENSIGN RONAN 
There is your last word. Captain. 

49 



MR. KINZIE 
How much ammunition has been saved ? 

CAPTAIN HEALD 
Twenty-five rounds to the man. 

MR. KINZIE 

And we have as many women and children to take 
safely to Fort Wayne! 

CAPTAIN HEALD 

The start from the fort is to be made at once. Gentle- 
men, our escort is in sight. 

They look of to the right, where the Potta- 
ivatotnies are expected, and turn hack 
toward the Block House. At the same 
time. Captain fVells enters from the left, 
at the head of a hand of Miamis. Captain 
Wells IS on horsehack. 

CAPTAIN HEALD 
You have come just in time, Captain. We need you. 

CAPTAIN WELLS 
Is it true, sir, as Winamac has told me, that you intend 
to evacuate the fort ? 

CAPTAIN HEALD 
The order has been given. 

CAPTAIN WELLS 
Do you realize that you have no chance to survive this 
march ? By Heaven, sir, you will all be cut down. 
Can we not stay and defend the fort ? 

50 



CAPTAIN HEALD 

We have no provisions. All is in readiness for the 
start. 

Captain Wells dismounts. 

What are you going to do ? 

CAPTAIN WELLS 

I was reared among the Miamis, Captain. There is 
much of the red man in me. I am going to my death, 
and our old custom is to blacken the face when there 
is no hope. I must do that, and then I am ready. 

The white men go into the forty passing 
around the block-house. 
The Pottaivatomies enter from the right. 
Blackbird leading. They form and wait. 
Captain Wells reappears at the head of 
his MiamiSy his face blackened with wet 
powder. The Dead March is played, 
and the garrison marches out, swinging 
around the stage and going off to the 
southward, left. The regulars follow the 
Miamis, the militiamen come after the 
* regulars; after them the women and chil- 

dren, Mr. Kinzie walking beside the 
wagons; at the close. Ensign Ronan with 
a rear-guard, and the Miami chief, with 
a few of his men. Blackbird* s men fall 
in beside the procession, and he himself 
rides along the lines. The Dead March 
continues to the end of the movement. 
As the last wagon is about to disappear, 

51 



a distant shot is heardy and a shout jrom 
the southward. The rear-guard halts. 
Captain Wells comes riding hack, shouting. 

CAPTAIN WELLS 
We are surounded. Charge! 

Blackbird comes riding hack along his 
lines, ordering his men to lie flat and fire. 
The Miami chief rides over to him, speaks 
defiantly, though his words can not he 
he heard for the shouting, and rides off, 
right, taking his men with him. 
Ensign Ronan, who has drawn up his 
rear-guard around the wagon, is wounded, 
and falls, hut continues fighting, leaning 
against the wagonwheels. The women 
form a close group hehind the wagon. 
Black Partridge appears in the midst of 
the group, and kills an Indian who is 
ahout to strike one of the women with his 
tomahawk. Captain Wells enters again, 
from the left, on foot. He goes straight 
toward Blackhird, shouting and striking 
at him with his sword. The Indians 
attempt to capture him, hut he eludes 
them, coming down stage. He turns and 
aims a pistol at Black Partridge, hut is 
himself shot, and falls. They leap for- 
ward to take him; he raises his head 
proudly, and receives another hullet which 
kills him. The regulars now appear, 
falling back slowly from the southward, 

52 



and forming tn a solid group around the 
wagon. Blackbird raises his handy and 
there is an instant of silence. Captain 
Heald, from the group, raises a white 
handkerchief tied to a musket. 

CAPTAIN HEALD 
Blackbird, we surrender. 

The lights are cut off from the stage, 
suddenly, and the group marches o^ to 
the right, carrying the dead. 



S3 




Scene Six 

Captain Isaiah Stillmans company of 
volunteers is seen in the act of making 
camp. Everything is being done in a 
haphazard and unmilitary style; horses 
are picketed, tents unfolded, and fires 
lighted, all at once. Captain Stillman, 
the only uniformed man in the troop, sits 
brooding over the disorder. 

A SOLDIER 
Look here, Captain, I want to go home for overnight. 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
Where do you Hve ? 

A SOLDIER 
Down below Dixon's. 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
You mean you want to go home over to-morrow night. 

SOLDIER 
I 'low I could get back in two or three days. 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
Now I can't have this sort of thing. What if Black 

55 



Hawk should attack us ? I'm responsible for the dis- 
cipline of this company. 

SOLDIER 
I suppose it would be awkward for you if the Indians 
should come and scalp us, and we wa'nt all on hand. 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN, 

(rising.) 

What do you want to go for ? 

SOLDIER 
Well, my crop is getting in bad shape, and me off here 
soldiering. I'm not doing any good here. We don't 
even know where the Indians are. If we did, I'd be 
the first to get out and shoot the whole tribe of 'em. 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
No you wouldn't. I have been elected Captain of this 
company and I won't give up my rights. 

Enter a tall young trooper on horseback. 

THE YOUNG TROOPER 
How d'ye do, Captain ? Have you seen any real live 
fighting Indians ? 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 



No. 

Neither have I. 



THE YOUNG TROOPER 



THE SOLDIER 
Do I go, or don't I, Cap ^ 



56 



CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
Go, or I'll put you in irons. 

{Exity The Soldier.) 

THE YOUNG TROOPER 
I hear there's been trouble down the river. 

Captain Sttllman starts up violently. 
The soldiers down there haven't enough to eat. It's 
pretty serious. 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN, sud- 
denly hospitable. 
Won't you stay to breakfast ? 

THE YOUNG TROOPER 
Thank you, no. I'm pretty hearty, and they say there's 
plenty of wild onions down yonder. 

Exit the Young Trooper, saluting awk- 
wardly. 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
Who is that fellow ? 

A CORPORAL 
I don't know. Came from down in Sangamon County, 
I guess. 

Enter, on horseback, a young woman; she 
is evidently tired, having ridden a long 
way. She reins up, looks around the 
camp, and her eyes light on Captain Still- 
man s uniform. She dismounts quickly, 
leaving her horse to a couple of rangers, 
and goes over to the Captain. The men 
croiud forward to hear what is said. 



THE YOUNG WOMAN 
Oh, General this is such a rehef. I've been so frightened. 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
There, there. It's all right now. We'll protect you. 
There's no danger. 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
You're so good. It has been a terrible experience. 
But I feel quite calm now. 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
That 's right, that 's right. How can we serve you, miss ? 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
Why, General, the Indians have burned our barn. 
Burned it right to the ground, and three wagon-loads 
of fodder in it. I want you to go right after them. We 
can't have our property destroyed this way. You've 
got to do something. 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 

Do something! Show me the Indians, and I'll show 
you. Won't we, boys ? 

THE COMPANY 
Well we should say so! Indians! 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
Are you General Atkinson ? 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
I am Captain Stillman, of Stillman's Volunteer Rangers, 
at your service. 

58 



THE YOUNG WOMAN 
Oh, that's too bad. Pa told me to tell General Atkin- 
son himself. 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 

Well it's just as well you found me. I'll go after 'em 
for you. 

A Scout comes running in. 

THE SCOUT 
Three Indians, Captain, with a white flag. 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
I hope, sir, I'm not going to see you temporize with 
these robbers. 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
Observe me, Miss. I trust I shall not disgrace my 
uniform. 

The three Indians with the truce flag are 
brought in. The spokesman stands for- 
ward, shakes ofl- the rangers luith dignity, 
and begins to speak. 

THE INDIAN 
Is it to the Great White Beaver that we make salutation } 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN, 

testily: 
No, it is not. Who is this White Beaver ? 

THE CORPORAL 
The Indians call General Atkinson the White Beaver. 



CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
Well I don't see why everybody takes me for old General 
Atkinson. 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
It's your uniform. 

THE INDIAN 
I come from Black Hawk — 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
Leave out the palaver — 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
Remember, sir, no compromise with these savages. 

THE INDIAN 

My message is for the White Beaver — 

THE CORPORAL 
Then why didn't you take it to him } 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
You'll deliver your message to me. Where's Black 
Hawk ^ 

THE INDIAN 

I can not give you the message of our Chief — 

THE CORPORAL 
Look here, Cap, we'd better hold these three fellows. 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 
Take them out there and tie them to a tree. Old Black 
Hawk will come after them, and we will get him yet. 



THE YOUNG WOMAN 
What strategy! 

THE CORPORAL 
Come along, Injuns. 

There is a great shout at this, and the 
Indians resist. The camp is instantly in 
an uproar. The Indians are finally hus- 
tled off at the lefty when the Scout runs in 
from the right , shouting. 

THE SCOUT 

Here comes Black Hawk. 

On the heels of the Scout comes Black 
Hawk in a towering rage, riding into the 
center of the camp. 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
Now, Captain! 

BLACK HAWK 

Where are my messengers whom I sent you with my 
peace flag ? 

CAPTAIN STILLMAN 

Messengers ? 

BLACK HAWK 

What does it mean, chief of the white men, that you 
take our envoys, and that you violate our truce flag ? 
If this is the kind of war you off^er, look to yourselves. 
I demand that my people be returned to me. 



THE CORPORAL 
Was that a peace-flag ? We thought it was a kerchief. 

The camp breaks into loud laughter and 
Black Hawk rides out raging. Many of 
the rangers follow along after htm, shouting 
and laughing. The others turn again to 
their tasks. 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
Are you going to let him get away ? Aren't you going 
to send somebody to see where he goes ? 

A shot is heard from the lefty followed 
quickly by others. Men appear, running 
back from that direction, shouting. 

A FUGITIVE 
It's the whole Sauk nation. Indians! 

The rush continues, other men running 
across from the left and all in terror. 
Captain Stillman looks about for his 
sword, finds it, and attempts to stem the 
panic. The Toung Woman follows him 
up, and he brings her back, putting her in 
the lee of the tree, right center, and going 
back to his task. He is instantly swept 
along with the rout, and every one of the 
rangers is seen to flee. Almost on their 
heels Black Hawk enters, followed by about 
twenty of his band. They pursue hotly, 
now and then pausing to load their mus- 
kets, and in a moment they have all passed, 
and the stage is left clear, save for the 
young woman and the camp equipment. 



62 



THE YOUNG WOMAN 
My, what a battle! I ought to have gone for General 
Atkinson, as pa said. 

She goes up stage, looking about for her 

horse, but not finding it. 
Here's a fix. They've got my horse. 

Shakes her fist after them. 

Enter the Toung Trooper. 

THE YOUNG TROOPER 
Thought I heard shooting. Where's Cap Stillman } 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
He's run away. 

THE YOUNG TROOPER 
Have the Indians been here "t 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
I should say so. There's been a battle. Stillman's 
company is retreating. 

THE YOUNG TROOPER 
A battle ? And I missed it. (^He dismounts.) 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
You 're bleeding, 

THE YOUNG TROOPER 
Yes. I too have been fighting a desperate battle, with 
the mosquitoes. 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
I'm so disappointed. 

63 



THE YOUNG TROOPER 
You can't be any more disappointed than I am. 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
How am I to get home ? 

THE YOUNG TROOPER 
Where do you live ? 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
Down below Dixon's Ferry. Where are you from ^ 

THE YOUNG TROOPER 
I hate to confess it, Miss, in the present circumstances, 
but I'm Captain of a company up the river. I came 
down here foraging. You better take my horse. 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
That's mighty good of you. 

He helps her to mount. 
Where shall I send him back? 

THE YOUNG TROOPER 
Never mind about that — I'll trade him for yours. 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
How'U you get back to your company, Captain. 

THE YOUNG TROOPER 
ril walk. 

THE YOUNG WOMAN 
Good bye. 

THE YOUNG TROOPER 
Good bye. 



She rides of, and he follows, on foot, carry- 
ing his bundle of wild onions. After a 
few moments^ the Indians of Black Hawk's 
band come back, and pick up the camp 
equipment, carrying it off, and leaving the 
stage clear. 




WHITE CLOUD 

ANITOU, THESE ARE IDLE 

THINGS. I SEE 
THROUGH ALL THIS FLAME 
AND FIGHT, THE WINTER 
FALL; 

WE COME FROM BARREN 
VICTORIES TO BEG 
For food. And while we stand aside and sulk, 
Desiring war but never daring it, 
The pale-face beaver people build their dams, 
The furrows creep across the hunting grounds. 
And foolish treaties bind us to our woe. 
For one swift hour the glory of our dawn 
Shone out while Black Hawk claimed his own, and 

made 
The border ring with panic at his wrath; 
For he was one who dared to love his land 
And lead his warriors, as a chieftain still. 
But beaver work stands firm against the frost, 
While eagles flee before the winter stars; 
We watch the leafage of our state drift down 
While here they build another, fashioned strong 
By laws we may not learn, and mysteries 

65 



They offer us too late. For us the trail 

Leads on to night. Great Manitou, my prayer 

Is granted, and my darkened eyes behold 

The ruin of our nations. Oak, I make 

My sacrifice to thee, and so depart 

Wise in thy bitter dream, uncomforted. 

The music changes, the lights go doiuriy 
and twenty-eight years are supposed to 
elapse. A torchlight procession appears, 
bearing transparencies, and singings the 
occasion being Lincoln's first Campaign. 
Lincoln appears, riding in a gig, and the 
procession closes. 

There is a slight pause, and the Pioneer s 
Chorus IS heard; the various characters 
of the Pageant march past, in reversed 
chronological order, Marquette and the 
Great Sachem of the Illinois coming last. 



CHORUS OF PIONEERS 

Not ours the roads the Romans laid. 

Not ours the old world, trodden way. 
Nor any path beneath the shade 

Of ancient law or sceptered sway; 
No cypresses in ordered lines, 

No towers upon the beetling crest, — 
Our trails are linked across with vines, 

We find new ways, and may not rest 
Until we know the hidden streams 

That stray from out the guarded West. 

66 



We search the lakes out, shore by shore, 

Till all the waters shall be known 
As our familiar trading lore, 

By star and sun and land-mark stone; 
The rivers we must break to bear 

The argosies of coming peace, 
And virgin lands must learn to wear 

The mantle of the golden fleece; 
We may not pause for death or fear 

Nor turn until our need shall cease. 



67 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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